Renado walked slowly along the Vagren street, weaving between market stalls and clusters of drably dressed townsfolk. Cutting off an old man with a pronged grey beard, Ren was rewarded a disapproving glare and a verbal scoff. He scowled himself and continued on his way. Kazra and Virn cut a clear path up the avenue, but it closed behind them before Renado, Asar, and Woodro picked up the rear. Sarno and his men trailed between them. It was, finally, time to report to Irrith.
Though Lotha had already likely reported to her comrade, Ren chose to keep up appearances. Omma, Captain Urro, and the rest of Storm’s crew were back at the tavern. To Irrith, Ren would pretend he did not know the Conclave had lied to him. He would pretend he worked for them still—that he still strove to earn his brother’s keep on their secure island headquarters.
Halrum was coming down the steps from Miss Puzzle’s house when Renado and his entourage reached the front yard. He gawked at them for a moment, smiled, and turned to knock at the door he had just closed. The strange man continued his servitude, it seemed, though Ren was still uncertain if Halrum was a magician or a mere slave of sorts. He seemed to be treated well, in either case.
Then the door opened, and Ren’s heartbeat began to pick up. Irrith came out with her stoic sword-wielding protector. She didn’t smile at them, but, as they reached the bottom of the deck stairs, she raised her hand in a wave.
Indoors, Renado found Lotha already seated in the living room. She nodded to him and thanked him for his company on the road to Vagren.
Ren smirked as he sank into one of the room’s armchairs. “Part of the way at least,” he said to her. Then, realizing where he was, he leaned forward uncomfortably and watched Irrith come into the room.
The sorceress nodded politely to Kazra and Virn before choosing her seat. She looked at Ren with wide, blue eyes, waiting. Her bearded guard crossed his arms and leaned casually in the doorframe of the front entryway, adjacent to the sitting room.
“Where’s Gravagan?” Ren asked, quickly.
“You didn’t actually expect him to stay all the way out here?”
Ren scowled again and muttered beneath his breath, “Probably skipped town.”
Irrith smiled politely. “He manages magicians across most of the Known World, so he’s moved on to his next priority. I assume, by your return, that your mission has been successful?”
“Yes, indeed,” Ren replied. He forced himself to lean back in his chair. He was as interested in killing these manipulative witches as he was in agreeing to help overthrow the Grey Brethren. He glanced at Woodro to remind himself of their goal here and then looked back to Irrith.
“Why did it take three months?” she asked, her voice full of innocent curiosity. “We thought you might have been killed.”
“One of the targets was particularly hard to finish off,” Ren murmured.
“But we did,” Kazra said, clenching her fist in front of her.
Irrith nodded and smiled earnestly. “Excellent. I will send a letter off to Gravagan then, to see what’s next. From what he mentioned to me before, this will likely be the conclusion of your one-year contract, all things considered.”
“What do you mean, ‘all things considered?’” Ren asked, with a tilt of his head. She means because they have no leverage anymore. Lerran isn’t on the Isle, they didn’t keep my family safe, and they’re lying bastards.
“You and your men accomplished something nearly unbelievable. Killing some of the world’s most powerful magicians is quite an ask, no matter how long the contract.” Irrith leaned back in her chair, crossing her skirted legs.
As the farmers would say, that’s a wagon of ox shit. Playfully, Ren continued. “Were you not expecting us to succeed?”
Irrith sighed. “Please, Renado. This doesn’t need to get terse. We had every hope for your success, but it has been nearly a year since your arrival on the Isle of Dusk and you are hardly devout members of Gravagan’s group. We wouldn’t ask you to risk your life and the lives of your followers any further.”
Ren listened irritably. He caught Lotha grinning in the corner of her eye; she quickly hid the expression. She had reported the truth. Everyone in the room knew what Ren knew, even Irrith. Ren grew bored of playing with the sorceress’s lies and leaned forward. “Let me speak with my men for a moment.”
“If it’s necessary,” Irrith drawled. She wanted him gone. “I don’t have much more for you until we hear back from Gravagan.”
“This might affect your letter, so just give us some privacy—please.” Ren stood up.
Irrith and Lotha rose with him, and they quietly exited the room. Ren shot Virn a glance and the somber warrior rose slowly to his feet. Kazra sighed dismissively and remained where she was, lounging on a cushioned couch.
Ren quickly confirmed their plans with his men. It was more for show, to wrestle some control away from Irrith. Everyone was still in agreeance that defeating the Grey Brethren would be worth the work. Ren leaned into the hallway, spotted Irrith’s guard in the kitchen down the hall, and waved him back to the sitting room.
Irrith came in and sat down, while Lotha took the guard’s point in the doorframe. The subordinate had said little; was she even permitted to speak? Irrith waited for an explanation for the delay.
“Our men and I have a long vendetta against the Grey Brethren, as you may or may not know.” Ren leaned forward. “We’d like to offer our help in Gravagan’s next plan.”
Irrith blinked. Lotha’s jaw had dropped. They seemed genuinely surprised, contrary to their earlier pretending. After a moment, Irrith tapped the low serving table in front of her chair. “That’s quite a proposition,” she murmured. “I don’t know specifics on Gravagan’s plans concerning the Brethren as that’s not my region. But I expect it to be a lot more complicated and time-consuming than the downfall of the Mage Kings. We cannot create martyrs in our process to stop the Brethren. Are you certain you would commit to something like that?”
Ren looked back at Woodro and Asar. They nodded hesitantly. He turned back to Irrith. “We’re definitely considering it. Please include this in your letter to Gravagan.”
Irrith nodded, smiled, and nodded again. She glanced at her guard. “I think we’ll celebrate the downfall of the Mage Kings with some white wine,” she said.
A moment later, a dozen small glasses were filled and they shared a quick toast to the end of the age. Ith would fall to new hands for the first time in centuries. When the wine was done, Ren and his comrades marched out into the street once more.
Without missing a beat, Kazra turned to face Ren and said, “It’s been good working with you, but it’s time for us to go our way.” Virn and Sarno stood at her sides. “We’ve reported. Now we have to report back home.”
Ren nodded earnestly. “Thank you for your help in Ith.”
Virn stepped forward, bridging the gap between Sarno’s men and Renado’s. Kazra glanced at him—and he flatly returned the look. “I’m not going, Kazra.”
Ren feigned shock.
Kazra watched Virn blankly for a moment. Then, seemingly without a word, she turned and started down the street. Sarno followed suit, along with Dorvigo and Red. Kazra called back over her shoulder, “Suit yourself!” Then the Circle warriors were gone.
Virn and Ren stood side-by-side, wordless for a moment. Virn smirked. “I’m not sure if I should be more or less concerned by that response, than I expected…”
“I was thinking the same thing, my friend.” Ren chuckled.